


Of Ocean and Sky

by RamblingWithFantasy



Category: SKAM (Norway)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Ancient Legend, Animals, Colors, Ferry boats, Lofoten islands, M/M, Romantic Soulmates, Seasickness, Some symbology involved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-06
Updated: 2019-01-06
Packaged: 2019-10-05 15:12:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17327351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RamblingWithFantasy/pseuds/RamblingWithFantasy
Summary: An ancient legend says that the islanders will find their soulmates for the first time on the way back home, someday.





	Of Ocean and Sky

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, this is my first Evak fanfiction ever. I'm not a native English speaker, so I'm already saying sorry for the possible language mistakes. I don't even know where the inspiration for this came from. Enjoy :)

_**"We are like islands, separate on the surface but connected in the deep" William James** _

***

Even has heard of the ancient legend at least a thousand times. At home, at school, at the ospital. Anywhere at any time. Everyone who lives on the island knows about it, talks about it, literally lives for it. Islanders are pretty obsessed with it. The legend says you’re meant to meet your soulmate on the way back home, one day. Even can’t exactly figure out what it means: what kind of soulmate and what kind of home? Does it apply to the thousands of islands on Earth, what about peninsulas? Neither island nor mainland. And the most important unanswered question of all, how can you just know whether that someone is your soulmate or not? He asked his parents once or twice when he was younger, but they were unable to give him a proper answer to help him dispel all the uncertainties and doubts he had accumulated over time.

«We first met outside the grocery, honey – his mom had told him – I was buying Alchermes for the cake when dad bumped into me and made me drop it all over the floor. I can still remember the annoyed expression of the employee who had to clean up the mess we had just made».

«You were so embarassed! And for the record, I barely touched you. But we have to thank your clumsiness, because it’s what makes me fall for you every single day like the first day, my darling» his dad had replied, gently whispering the compliment in her ear and giving her eskimo kisses afterwards.

Even observed how his parents’ eyes were glowing with happiness every time they told this story; eyes full of love, gentleness and gratitude. The world could stop spinning and they wouldn’t even notice, too lost in each other’s eyes. Even today the boy shyly looks away when his parents turn all lovey-dovey, as if twenty years had never passed.

Even was only seven when he first learnt about the existence of the soulmate legend. He was playing football in the playground with some friends when the ball ended near two older girls who suddenly brought up the subject.

«You know, my sister has finally found her true soulmate. I don’t know how to feel about it honestly» confessed the blonde one to her friend. «So this thing is real? It’s not just a legend, then... You should be happy for your sister, she’s already twenty-three and lately she was so desperate to be paired with someone. No one wants to be forever alone» her friend replied enthusiastically. «Your moment will come, don’t worry».

The first immediate thought of seven-year-old Even had been that he didn’t wish to be paired at all. He didn’t want a soulmate because he feared that he would become as all lovey-dovey as his parents. He had to keep his composure whenever it came to showing emotions. Little Even was pretty sure that having a soulmate meant automatically becoming a wimp. He also wondered if some sort of dark magic was involved in the process. However, curiosity has never left his side.

«Why are you so determined to learn more about the legend, Even? Dad and I have already given you answers. The fact is that it just happens and you can’t control it – his mom argues – I’m so sorry we are no help».

Even rolls his eyes in frustration. «I’m already eighteen and yet, there’s a lot of things I can’t figure out and it’s driving me nuts. The legend doesn’t say a single word about the signs, and the meanings of ‘home’ and ‘soulmate’ are too vague to be interpreted correctly. I would like to be ready when it happens, if it happens. Because, you know, I’ve read somewhere that there’s a tiny possibility to remain alone. That’s it. I’m not looking forward to waiting for someone if I know for sure that they are not going to come. Time is precious». Even hates it, hates the quarrels with his mother. He hates being left hanging in doubt, without clear answers.

His mom stops chopping the onion to turn around and get closer to him. «Even, you have to trust me and have hope – she says softly, cupping his cheeks – this is not something you can approach scientifically. There are no written texts, no researches, no ‘signs’ you can put on a list and analyse. You are the smartest, most generous, altruistic and kindhearted soul on Earth. Believe me, it’s more than I could have ever asked for a son. I’m one hundred percent sure that your half is out there, eager to meet you. But you need to be patient».

It’s the first time Even listens to his mother speaking this fondly of him. «I’m sorry for bothering you so much, mom. I’ll stop being repetitive...for now» he mumbles while hugging her. «I’ll try to go with the flow, then».

***

Reine is a small fishing village located on the island of Moskenesøya, in the Lofoten archipelago. Even has spent his whole life there: he’s gone to school there, met all of his friends there, made his first experiences there. Moskenesøya is a huge part of him: it’s the place where his parents met, where you can watch the Aurora borealis and the Midnight Sun for nearly two months, and set off for adventurous boat trips as well. There are mountains and fjords as well.

Being an islander is something totally unique, a gift from above: no one will be ever able to understand and appreciate the feeling of being constantly surrounded by the infinite, soothing blue of the ocean as much as an islander. Even is fully aware and proud of it. He has firmly decided that it doesn’t matter where the life will take him, he’s going to live by the sea, in a cozy house with blue and white furniture and the sweet company of a dog. Preferably a Czechoslovakian wolfdog. He’s also painfully aware that he will have to leave soon Moskenesøya, because he’s done with high school now and he’s already enrolled in a university on the mainland to study marine biology. Even feels so connected to the water body called Atlantic Ocean, that he cannot even conceive the idea of living without it, without waking up every morning and running to the window to admire the view first. He wouldn’t have it any other way.

But summer is coming to an end and Even has to pack all of his things. Moving to Bergen will require at least two or three big suitcases; he doesn’t know how to arrange them though. Clothes in one ad books in another? What about all the photographs hanging on the wall, and his favourite turquoise blanket? His mind is such a mess right now, it’s impossible to concentrate.

Even’s mom quietly enters the bedroom while Even is cursing himself for being so hopeless when it comes to packing. «This damn blanket just won’t fit in here... Bloody suitcase!» the boy swears loudly, pushing the blanket down with strenght trying to make it fit.

«Even, you must unfold it a bit more if you want to take it with you to Bergen. Here, I’ll show you» she intervenes, placing the blanket correctly and showing all the useful little tricks to exploit the space of the suitcase to the maximum.

«What kind of sorcery is this, mom?» Even asks with eyes wide open in disbelief. It’s incredible how his mum makes everything work.

«Well, your ferry leaves tomorrow morning. I don’t want you to miss it just because your ability to pack is nowhere near zero, honey» she grins. Even had almost forgotten that the woman who gave birth to him can be a tease sometimes.

«Well, thanks for being brutally honest. What am I going to do without your precious suggestions? – he fake-cries – How am I going to live without you by my side? You, the most important woman of my life!» he acts theatrically, going down on one knee with pleading hands.

She allows a nervous laughter before zipping up the suitcase and sitting on the bed. «Quit the drama, you’re not going to war. You’ll come back sooner or later, and I feel like you won’t be alone». She tries to hide the grief in her voice, but her eyes are speaking louder than words.

Even looks down at her. He’s afraid his mom will soon break down in tears, so he leans forward and hugs her tight, hooking his chin onto her shoulder. «We’re going to Skype and text a lot, I give you my word» he promises.

She nods briefly before breaking the hug, and leaves without looking back.

Even lets her cry in silence in the adjacent room.

***

It’s a sunny day, fortunately. He leaves Moskenesøya and his parents with innumerable promises. One: regular calls/text/Skype. Two: healthy food. Three: no drugs, alcohol, smoke. Four: dad has a couple of acquaintances in Bergen, if you need anything just let them know.

«Mom, it’s gonna be fine. And dad, take care of her. I trust you both.»

A member of the crew carefully tears off Even’s ticket and allows him on board afterwards. The two suitcases are enormous, and needless to say, extremely heavy. Even rejects the idea of being flesh and bone, but he doesn’t want to have the body of a culturist either. Again, needless to say, he struggles to carry the luggage beyond the limits of his own imagination. And the worst part is that the luggage room is on the other side of the ferry. That’s when he hears a male voice not far away from him.

«May I help you?» he asks.

Even is relieved to learn that someone has seen him struggle with the suitcases. And much probably felt pity for him. So relieved that he lets go of the suitcases voluntarily and turns around, causing a dull, heavy thud to echo around the hallway.

«Yeah, I was just about...look for help...upstairs...crew» he stops mid-sentence once or twice. Okay, maybe three times. Actually, he’s not even able to form a grammatically correct sentence, completely mesmerised by the stunning transparency of the guy’s green eyes.

«Have we met before?» Even enquires. This face is not unfamiliar to him.

Assaulted by doubts, his memories travel back to the secondary school, which ended four years before. The guy had long, wavy blond hair usually tied in a bun, hazel eyes and a baby face. His shy nature would often stop him from making new friends, or simply talking to teachers without stuttering. That’s why Even always saw him have lunch alone, even though the room was overcrowded with children. The first time he tried to engage him in a passionate conversation about shells and hermit crabs; his schoolmate had no clue about the existence of hermit crabs. The second time, the conversation focused on the habits of sea stars: he told him that he preferred to gaze at the stars of the sky over searching for them on the seabed.

Even left him alone at the table where he was eating a sandwitch. Twice. He kept telling himself that he tried to befriend him, but failed miserably.

«Isak. The very one. The guy who didn’t know how to hold a conversation about hermit crabs, and made your hopes crumble definitively when it came to sea stars» the green-eyed boy replies with a huge smile carved on his lips. Isak has way shorter and darker hair now, the face of a seventeen-year-old guy, and eyes which probably change colour depending on the amount of light they receive. But the flesh tone is the same: a snowy white that would make Snow White the second most beautiful human being of the kingdom. Even almost feels like he’s meeting Isak _for the first time_.

Even watches him come closer, more hypnotised than before.

«Looks like you need some help. Here, let me» he says, putting a suitcase upright and carrying it nice and easy as if it was a feather.

Even lets him, of course. Isak is stronger than it seems, and Even’s back is already thankful for that. They leave the suitcases in the luggage room, and then go upstairs. They quickly cross the main hall, where there’s a bar, a tv and comfy couches, and head outside. Few passengers are sitting on the benches – someone has already lain down – speaking animatedly about everything and anything. The ferry is going to sail to Bodø in a couple of minutes. They opt for two empty benches near the railing, which allow them to enjoy the panoramic view of the coast.

Isak arranges his bag under his head the best he can, lies down and makes himself comfortable. Even doesn’t notice, too distracted by the spectacular view in front of him. They don’t utter a word for a while, being ok with each other’s silent company. All of a sudden, mostly talking to himself, Even confesses: «If I hadn’t had the passion for marine biology, I would have been a sailor for sure».

On the other bench, Isak has already closed his eyes. He takes deep breaths as he feels the waves underneath him swinging back and forth, like a newborn in a cradle. The ferry has just left, and it will take three hours and thirty minutes to get to Bodø. He’s not sure if he’ll get off board in one piece.

«Unfortunately, I can’t say the same about me» he sighs.

«Why? What do you mean?» Even turns around, intrigued. Seeing Isak’s face paler than it was before is enough to sweep away his curiosity. «Oh, I see... you’re one of those» he sneers with a cocky smile.

Isak looks at him with a raised eyebrows and snorts loudly. «It’s not my fault! And for the record, it started when I was eleven, maybe twelve. You can’t lay the blame on me for this» he complains.

Even can’t help but laugh. It’s quite surreal for him that an islander can suffer from seasickness. Being seasick is out of the question for him. «I’m not laying the blame on you, just categorising you. Just a question, and then we won’t bring up the subject anymore. That’s the reason why you didn’t attend highschool on Moskenesøya? Because you couldn’t afford to travel thirty minutes to school every day?» he guesses.

Isak thinks back on those difficult years, when talking to someone and befriend people was the hardest task ever assigned to him. Every conversation he tried to hold would be soon cut short because he didn’t know how to keep it going, how to get the others interested in him and look for him at lunchtime. If he could turn back time, if he could rewrite it, he would try harder and be more open to others.

«Yeah, I couldn’t make it anymore. At some point I wasn’t doing anything but having nausea and throwing up, even if there was no rough sea. No snide remarks on it, I know myself I’m a bit of a wreck from a biological point of view» Isak smiles lightly mouth closed.

Even nods and moves his gaze away from him. That must have been a torture, he thinks. He regrets right now that he could have tried harder, maybe talking about something not necessarily related to marine biology, but he didn’t.

«I’m sorry that you’ve had to move in on the mainland just because of it. I can’t imagine being seasick, as the ocean is my whole life. There’s this connection I’m not quite able to explain. When it comes to it, the world stops spinning and the noise fades away. All the messed up feelings I have inside just magically turn into heavenly peace. And the infinity of the horizon fascinates me so much to the point that sometimes I don’t hear people talking to me. As if I was in a place where nothing matters, where I feel synchronised with the whole universe. Only the waves remind me of my human nature, and only being human allows you to aspire to the magnificence and immensity of eternity».

Even didn’t expect to be so deeply poetic, but this is actually the first time he achieves success in giving voice to his innermost emotions. His defensive techniques are vacillating. He starts to suspect that Isak’s proximity has something to do with it.

Isak sits up, crossing his legs. «Wow, you never cease to impress me. If you ever quit biology, give literature a chance. The Bergen faculty is excellent. You may become a teacher one day, or a writer. A poet, even better...» he rambles.

He doesn’t end the sentence, as his eyes are being captivated by a wonderful, luminous emerald-striped butterfly. It gently lies on Even’s head for a couple of seconds, before double-checking its wings and flying away again. Even feels a sudden shiver running down his spine.

«What was _that_? Butterflies in the middle of the channel, miles away from the land?» Even questions with little amazement in his voice.

«It’s not just a butterfly. It’s a _Papilio palinurus_ , also called emeral peacock swallowtail. It’s not a native species, so it must have been escaped a butterfly house in the search of freedom. Poor creature, they’re delicate insects. My favourite butterfly is the _Morpho menelaus_ » Isak replies, pretending all the details he gave Even are common knowledge.

Even stares at him, smitten and not quite knowing what to do with that information. «Let me guess: the section of entomology of Bergen is excellent as well?»

Isak smiles big mouth, and his eyes are glowing with happiness. «Astronomy, but I’m glad you asked. The butterfly that lay on your head is my mom’s favourite. She has a burning passion for brightly coloured animals. And it reminds her of my grandfather, who has passed away recently. She says that ‘it’s good to have memories to hold onto, even if they’re not always happy memories’. I don’t completely agree though. Holding onto unhappy memories perpetuates pain. On the contrary, I believe that the more you can transform and accept the sad memories as your own, as a part of you, the more you’ll be able to appreciate the happy ones. But that’s another story.»

And just like that, out of the blue, Even sees the mesmerising cerulean _Betta splendens_ of his childhood and feels that shivery sensation again.

«So the poet here would be _me_. How funny, I may say the same about you. 'The new Ibsen is taking the world of poets by storm'. I want to be the first to read that kind of article!» Even says lighheartedly.

The point is that Isak is so natural and easy to talk to. Where has his shyness gone? Wasn’t he the guy who was always stuttering and mumbling, and moving his gaze away from people? What happened to the middle-school Isak? He prefers by far this version of Isak.

«So, what do you think of the legend? Do you think it’s true?» he asks tentatively. Isak is an interesting person, and he wants him to talk more and more until they disembark. Two hours with him have literally flown.

At first, Isak is a bit taken aback by the sudden question, so he snorts. He doesn’t have a clear view on it yet. «Well, my parents say it’s true. Some of my friends believe in it on a varying degree. When something seems unexplainable I tell myself that the legend has something to do with it, but I can’t quite grasp the core. It’s like when you have a nightmare and wake up trembling with fear in your veins, but seconds later you’ve already forgotten what your nightmare was about. Such a complexity is caused by the fact that there are no ancient documents, no scientific studies, no warnings. And I’m tired of it, fed up with people who have no other subjects to discuss but this damn legend.»

As soon as he’s done answering, Isak looks up and takes a quick glance at Even; he notices _for the first time_ that Even’s blue eyes just twinkle whenever he stares at the ocean. Twinkling like stars. An electrocuting shock pervades him from head to toe. He’s paralysed, can’t take his eyes off Even.

 _Like stars_.

 _A Papilio palinurus_.

Even is glad he’s being stared at. All of a sudden, he catches a glimpse of cerulean light flashing through Isak’s irises. A light full of promises.

 _A Betta splendens_. 

The moment seems eternal, but actually, it’s a matter of seconds before Even stands up and runs to Isak, closing the distance with a kiss that tastes like forever. They can feel each other’s smile on their lips. Now everything is crystal clear like the sea on a sunny day, everything has fallen into place. The words of Even’s mom now make perfect sense to him.

Both can’t help but laugh when they say with only one voice in heavenly synchrony, «We’re going home».

**Author's Note:**

> For everyone who is reading these endnotes, A THOUSAND THANK YOU. I hope you enjoyed it at least a little bit :)


End file.
